Nanny dead face 3

"Oh joy! Oh joy! You have finally come! Welcome! Oh Welcome to the Land of Happyplaces!"

Joy is joy on Earth, but exuberance in Happyplaces, where the water is flavored to candyness and the grass is a blanket which can be pulled over your body when, if ever the bright and good ol' father Sun stops shining on this land, you will find true comfort and happiness in Happyplaces.

"Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!"

Everyone takes the form of a child in the Land of Happyplaces, even though old souls occupy puerile bodies, these souls are so happy now, that they're children is what truly makes them smile.

"Me wrinkles are gone!" Nanny proclaims.

The Welcome Master is a child of six hundred and seventy six, and he smiles at Nanny's new face, which radiates with excitement, joy and naturally, utter speechlessness as she is much more youthful looking than she was about five minutes ago...

~ Five Minutes Past ~

As she did every day for the past eight decades, minus the time she spent standing or sitting anywhere else besides a couch which was chiefly used as a human sitting depot for watching television broadcasts, Nanny sat and watched Days of Our Lives, a television daytime drama otherwise known as a "soap opera".

Nanny was so old that she remembers the time when the term "soap opera" was coined to describe these daytime television dramas, not because there was any use of soap in the actual performance of the show, but because most of the dramatic pauses were placed for the advertisement of feminine hygiene products, hence the term "soap opera". As woman were at home during the day to indulge in this frankly terrible programming, this was a prime time to advertise such products, as it might prompt the ladies to recall that they needed a little something from the local store.

Alas, Nanny was not going to go to the store today. No doubt she would usually do this, but since she can't drive and can't much walk anymore without assistance, and being that she was all alone while her son and his family were all out at work and school, no doubt enjoying the severance from Nanny, especially the teenage boy, Fuckle, she has decided to indulge in sweets.

In her stomach was one ooie gooie cinnamon roll, two chocolate cupcakes with confetti sprinkles, three ding dongs, four chocolate chip cookies, five Milano wafers, six white chocolate covered pretzels, seven Andes mint wafers that she found in the recesses of the freezer by accident of accessing the ice cream, which she had eight spoonfulls of. One can probably imagine the bloated state that Nanny was in, but the silly part about all of this was the fact that she had been diagnosed with diabetes a couple weeks past. While looking upon this dreadful over-indulgence of sweet rewards, it can only be concluded that the poor woman was in the process of committing suicide.

But Nanny was nervous. She wanted the seizure to happen quickly, as to not experience a prolonged exposure to severe pain, panic, despair, regret, etcetera. So to combat this from happening, she also brought out a box of SplendaTM packets that her son used to make his coffee taste a little bit better than liquidated beans. She downed the packets one by one, and planned to keep on going until she felt something bad about to happen. By the time she spilled the contents of the twentieth packet into her mouth, she felt the overwhelming urge to vomit.

Nanny vomited, and with it came all of her hard work - the cinnamon roll, the cupcakes, the cookies and wafers - it was all so beautiful before she ate it, and when it was in her mouth, it all tasted so good, but now it left a terribly sour taste in her mouth. She vamited three times within five seconds - because of the exreme intensity of the escape - Nanny blacked out and crashed into the glass coffee table, mixing blood with vamit and sweet with sour, the last thing she heard was the outtro music to The Days of Our Lives, and the last thing that she saw with her mind was the hourglass. Indeed, her time was up.

~ One Minute Later ~

"In Happyplaces nobody has wrinkles! Everybody is young looking - forever!"

Nanny brushed her new hands across the contours of her smooth new face. She was so happy that she had committed suicide.

"I knew the lord would still have me!"

The Welcome Master smiled and tilted his head. He looked a little confused, so he summoned the Keeper, who was in charge of knowledge retention, the name of the Keeper was Chance.

"Chance," the Welcome Master whispered in his ear, "she speaks of the lord, what am I to say of this?"

"She thinks she's in the Christian heaven," Chance replies, "you will have to tell her that she is in Happyplaces."

"But I already told her that she was in Happyplaces."

"Well, you must tell her that this is not Christian heaven."

The Welcome Master is reasonably nervous being that this is a place where everyone is supposed to be in a perpetual state of happiness, even he has to deliver some unhappy news once in a blue sky.

"Young lady," the Welcome Master clears his throat, "this, I'm afraid, is not Chris-" the Welcome Master looks over at Chance, as he forgot the word.

Chance whispers, "Christian heaven."

"Ah!" The Welcome Master smiles, "this is not Christian heaven."

Nanny has her hand on her face, a bit confused, but nonetheless in a reasonable state of happiness, "Oh no? Well what is it?"

The Welcome Master does a jig and joyfully sings the name of his home, "Hap-pi-pla-ces!"

Nanny rubs her smooth arms, "And you don't have a god?"

The Welcome Master looks over at the Keeper, who shakes his head 'no'.

"No!" The Welcome Master smiles.

"Oh," Nanny feels her face again, "whatever."

But suddenly...

The entire land disappeared, and the hand which Nanny kept to her face felt a new and all too familiar texture - wrinkled skin. She was old again.

"No!" Nanny gasped.

And before her a light was shone that was of such brilliance, it burned her thin skin; she tried to guard herself from it, but she was naked. But before long, a figure of some sort appeared from the light. Nanny knew who it was, and she screamed his name!

"Loooord!"

A wind of great magnitude and heat blew across Nanny.

"Have mercy on my soul!"

The figure was close enough to where Nanny could see a set of clenched, angry teeth; no eyes or nose, just a mouth with teeth - and it spoke with fury.

"First you took the life that I gave you!"

Nanny screamed, "Have mercy!"

"Second!" the figure screamed, "You failed the test to enter my kingdom!"

"NO! NO!"

"Therefore, you will spend the rest of your soulful existence in the realm of Purgatory!"

"Have mercy!" Nanny bellowed.

"You will stay there the length of time it takes for you to forget this meeting, and when you have forgotten, you will be tested once more. If you fail that test, you will have the option to remain in Purgatory, or spend your eternity in Hell."

"Faaather!"

"You've been!" The figure pauses and waits for the echo of his tremendous voice to subside, and when is all silent, he screams, "Clu-ster-fucked!"

Nanny screams.

As the figure leaves, the light escapes, the burn on Nanny's skin subsides, but a tremendous pain arrives when she encounters a new light.

She arrives back to Earth like a ruptured bag. Nanny is hunched over the coffee table, bleeding from a cut in her abdomen, staring at a pool of her own bodily fluids. The Collective Soul song, Thunderstruck is playing off in the distance, probably from Fuckle's room, Nanny imagines. She cannot move, she cannot speak.

Is the boy home? Nanny wonders.

Suddenly, Fuckle appears at the upstairs railing, looking down at Nanny's dying body. He is nodding his head to the music, and sings along to this particular part of the song...

You've been...
Clu-ster-fucked!

Nanny hears the boy and tries to see him out the corner of her eye. All Fuckle has done is changed the word "thunderstruck" to "clusterfuck"; as the two words share the same amount of syllables, changing the lyrics in such a way is quite simple.

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Clu-ster-fucked!

All Fuckle did was sing at the landing, watching from above as Nanny experienced a very slow and painful death.

The boy grimaced, "I'll see you in about five minutes, dead face. I am your God."